So this is Christmas...

Almost two years ago my Nana lazily woke up later then she normally does on Christmas Day. We had tried waking her but she just wanted to sleep, so we let her. Not knowing fifteen days later she would no longer be with us. She sat at the table slowly drinking her coffee and gingerly opening her Christmas gifts as we watched. I could feel deep in my bones something was wrong but, I ignored it. Not facing the reality that something was feeling out of place. If I could, I would go back in time and hug her, wake her up, tell her how much she meant to me, how much I loved her like a mother. I never got that chance. I know she knows that she was my second mother. The night before she slept in my bed. I was sleeping on my bedroom floor, it was tradition. Ever since I can remember Nana stayed Christmas Eve at my house. I laid awake a listening to her, her breathing was off. After we had dinner she helped clean up, and we took her back to the nursing home. I hugged her goodbye and slowly worked my way out to the car. I couldn't help the strange feeling tugging at my heart.

Mom went down to see her a few days later and told me that Nana told her that she saw her Husband at the door and he was asking her to come with him. He had her bags packed for her, and was warming the car up. "I think I'm ready" she told my mother, but we were not. It scared my mother because people sometimes see loved ones before the pass away. I knew this all to well. Moms eyes welled up as she told me this, then I told her about what I had been feeling. "We're all connected" She said to me. ESP.

Again, a few days later Mom and I were rushing down to the hospital. Nana was in the ER. I can't remember why now, but I told her not to scare me like this. She took my hand and told me not to worry, she'd be fine.


I didn't see her again until I got paged to the office at school. I started crying because I knew something was up. I had serious Nana ESP. I ran down the hall way and saw Dad standing there. He looked at me "your Nana is in the hospital. Its not looking so good." We rushed to WCGH to the second floor. The second to the last room, on the right side, of the right hall way. Mom heard my cries coming from the elevator. She rushed out and told me I needed to clam down before I came into the room. She didn't want me to upset my uncle. We all sat around her and listened to her hollow breathing. We sat in silence and tears. There are still tear stains on my red pea coat.

The funnest thing happened. My Aunt had flown home from Florida. She has only been at the hospital a few hours and suddenly Nana woke up. Nana looked at my Aunt and said "Wow, you look like crap" My Aunt laughed "well its good to see you too, Mom." we all laughed. Nana looked up "I think I want something to eat" So we had them find something for her to munch on. This went on all day. She was talking, joking, and asked me to brush her hair for her. Mom and I had gone home that night to get a good night sleep. In the night Nana took another turn for the worst. When we got there the next day she was barely with us. Her kidneys were starting to fail and they think she had a stroke. She was talking to us but it was breathy and mumbled. She took turns telling us each something. When she got to me she had me come sit next to her. She took my hand and told me she was sorry. She was sorry that he had to brake her promise, she wouldn't be able to make it to my graduation. She told me she loved me, and that she would always be with me no matter what. She also said that she didn't want to see me cry. That there was no need because she was going to be fine. Later on the moved her to Hospice.

The next day around lunch Mom and I left to get some food. All of a sudden Mom looks at the lady making her sandwich and tells her to hurry up because she needed to get back to the hospital. We zoom back over just as my Aunt says "get in here". We all gathered around looking helpless at her, as her breathing slows until it stops. It was around 1 pm, the sun was setting as the funeral directors came and got Nana. I sat in with her while the family was in the other room, I couldn't stand her being alone. I held her hand and sobbed into the pillow next to her.

I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember her friend crying big, painful, heartbreaking sobs when we told her. I remember that I picked out her funeral outfit. I remember how numb I felt all that week while we were doing funeral things. And then in the spring when we had to burry her. How everything I was trying to mask came back up.

I miss you Nana, and I know you where with us this weekend. We love you <3

I'll break the sky.

The only thing I feel that I have to hold on to is hope. Hope that they will figure out whats going on in my brain. I have vertigo, which is, in a nutshell chronic dizziness. How can a person be driven crazy by a bout of dizziness? Well, allow to me to explain. Its like no matter what I do the world keeps spinning faster, and faster around me. No matter how much I scream the world won't stop and let me off. Its that feeling that you get after you're done spinning around in a circle, only that's my every hour, minuet, second of everyday of my life. Its sickening. I feel trapped inside my own body, and I don't like the decor, its s sickening shade of pale pink. I feel like its morphing me into this monster. This hollow shell of a translucent being. A person that I don't know, a stranger to everyone. A ghost. I don't like this new feeling. I don't feel the same, I feel the change engulfing me. Like when the sea takes out its rage on the fishing boat. My body is taking its rage out on me. And I don't have the power to fight back, no matter how hard I try. My boat isn't fast enough to out run the fury of the sea.



I feel very empty and confused.

I will win this battle, my Dear.

When I was younger all I wanted to be was a house wife. I wanted to wake up everyday next to my perfect husband who is a mechanic, make his meals, clean the house, and kid wrangle. 'Till this day that is still all I want. I guess it's because I still believe marriage is sacred and unbreakable and that person that I marry will always love me. Deep down I know that is not the case at all. But I still like to pretend that life is perfect and no one would ever hurt me. I also like to pretend I'm not broken, that I'm not sick and unhappy. And the more I try to shove out the pain the more it runs back and bites me. I keep building walls hoping my pain will bounce off but it finds a way to slip through the cracks of the bricks. I want to wake up one day and feel healthy and alive. I've feel so dead and hopeless for the first time in my life. I hate it. I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it. I guess the house wife thing is just a reflection of what my perfect life would be. I would go about my day pretending my sadness wasn't killing me, because that's what I am use to. I would stand in my kitten heals and wrap dress crying in the cookie dough while my kids run around my feet. When my husband comes home with his grease stained clothes and hands, he'll take me by the waist and kiss me, which will make me forget why I hate my life. While I'm making dinner he'll be out in the yard playing catch with our son and our daughter will be swinging and watching them, while the sun sets behind my perfect family. And then I'll wake up the next day and do it all over again except every Wednesday I'll have therapy while Jr and Sally have soccer and ballet practice.

What will really happen? I'll end up with some deadbeat who beats the shit out of me and tells me i'm ulgy, fat, and stupid. And I'll put up with it because that's what I do. I deal with everyone's shit, I take it. I take the abuse. I'd take it. I pretend it was perfect because that's what I do. I'll still be at Old Navy making absolutely no money, and have ten horribly behaved kids.

Sometimes I also wonder why I let myself believe stuff like the deadbeat boyfriend thing. I know how wonderful I am, and not in a self centered way. I know my life is valued and that I am loved. I know someday I will marry my mechanic, we'll have kids and a dog named Chester or Winnifred or something along those lines. One day I will be happy, healthy, and loved.  Until then I guess I need to find my own way out of this rut. I can't be helped out. I will over come this battle with demons. I will be victorious.